Abigail is my two year old. Her name means joy to the father. I'm pretty sure it would have to be since she is driving her mother crazy. I've never had a two year old like Abbey. My relatives shake their heads when I say this and remind me that Audrey was pretty clingy and Sadie falls on her head a lot. To this I smile. There is a difference between parental attachment issues, accident prone children, and ones who are pure mischievious. Abbey is the one who sneaks black pens in her shirt to draw on the leather couch when I'm not looking. She will pull a stool all the way from the kitchen to the master bathroom to get into my makeup. She will refuse to eat no matter what you do until Daddy walks in and then it is all smiles and open mouths. The problem is that she is so cute no one (who hasn't been around awhile) believes me. Last night though I got validation.
We went to an 8:30 pm party for a work friend of my husband. I was very leery about bringing the kids. It was an adult birthday party at his new townhouse. There would be alcohol, in glasses and in the cake. The hostess however knew that kids had been invited and had made a separate smaller cake for them. Ben said we had to bring the kids. We dressed them up cute. We threatened them all the way down. We told everyone it was way past their bedtime and we would not be staying long. Our kids were awesome though. They were polite, they entertained (in a good way). They never yelled, shouted, asked for toys, or whined. They ate their cake and sat on the couches answering questions and playing with each other. At about nine thirty a lady I had been talking to pointed to Abbey and said, 'she's your trouble maker huh?'
'How did you know? Is it the age?'
'No, I'm a pediatrician and after awhile you can spot them, even when they are behaving.'
Thank you unknown party guest. Finally, someone else sees it.